


Bingo Square C4

by DramamineOnTopOfMe



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, IDK it's fixed, Met in a dog park, Spideypool Bingo 2019, Taco Bell, Tacos, little bit of angst?, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 17:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20138929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramamineOnTopOfMe/pseuds/DramamineOnTopOfMe
Summary: Peter agrees to meet Deadpool in the dead of night at a dog park.





	Bingo Square C4

**Author's Note:**

> Alpacashavenames = Tumblr. mmmmmm I apologize for putting this fic up at 2am and then taking it down again so I have to go update that link but let's be real guys, 2am posts never do well.

Peter can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe he’s agreed to meet  _ the  _ Deadpool in a dog park at 2 am. What was he thinking? He’s going to get mugged! Or murdered! Or worse, have to hold a conversation with the man! 

“Spider-Man! Fancy seeing you here! Oh wait, you agreed to meet me here.” Peter turns around and sees the other man standing at the gate of the park. He’s grinning, that much he can tell. “Settle down Yellow, I know his ass looks great, but we don’t want to scare him off.” Deadpool seems to talk to himself, tilting his head to the side slightly. “I brought tacos, do you like Mexican? I thought we could eat and chat about criminals for a minute.” 

“You are a criminal, and I think I’m a bit insane to agree to meet with you. Mr. Stark says you’re nothing but trouble and you always get people killed.” 

“Iron Dildo said that? Did he also tell you about the time that I shoved his ass into rehab and basically set him on the path of righteousness?” Peter cocks his head, No, Mr. Stark never mentioned having a drug or alcohol problem. Deadpool continues, walking towards Peter, “Yeah, back in the early 90’s he was big into drugs. Some asshole had a hit out on him and I was put on the job. But instead of killing him, I sat him down and had a hard talk with him about where he thinks his life is going.” Deadpool sets the bags of food down on the nearest picnic table then plops down on the bench. “He was still mourning the death of his parents at the time. I gave him a bit of my backstory and that seemed to do the trick! He agreed to get clean and he became the lovely member of asshole society that we know and love today!”

Peter slowly inches toward the picnic table as Deadpool keeps talking. “Oh, and you can call me Wade. Wade Winston Wilson, if you’re nasty. Do you have a name or am I stuck calling you Spider-Man?” 

Peter jerks, straightening his posture, “Spider-Man. I’m Spider-Man.” Not even the Avengers know his real name, only Mr. Stark. 

Deadpool- Wade’s face crunches, “That’s no fun! Yellow thinks we should give you a nickname! How does Spidey sound? Or baby boy? You don’t sound like you can be older than 25.” 

“How do you get your mask to be that emotive? It’s kind of creepy.” Before being able to stop himself, he sits down on the other side of the table and pokes at one of the Taco Bell bags. “What’d you get anyways, I’m starving. And no, you can’t call me any of those.” He pauses, eyes falling twenty or so hard and soft shell tacos. “Okay, I guess Spidey is okay? But like, don’t call me baby boy.” 

Wade salutes, “Yes sir! I’ve got tacos in one bag and box deals in the other. Feel free to take whatever!” Then he shoves his own hand in the second bag and pulls out a box. Upon opening it, Peter sees that it’s a chalupa deal. Mm, that looks good. 

Wade rolls up his mask to the bridge of his nose and Peter notices the scars but doesn’t say anything. He carefully sticks his hand in the second bag and pulls out another box. Opening it, he finds the same assortment as Wade’s box and grins. “Thanks for the food, man. You didn’t have to.” 

Wade puts a hand to his chest, gasping dramatically, “You think I wouldn’t wine and dine you, Spidey? I know you’re not a cheap date!” Wade rolls his neck and looks up at the sky, “White, that's rude. We just met him, and we don’t want to kill him. He’s my hero.” 

Peter pushes his own mask to the bridge of his nose and takes a bite, “Who are you talking to? Who are White and Yellow?” 

“The boxes. They uh,” He pauses, clearing his throat and putting down his chalupa, “Alright, dramatic backstory time! I had cancer like everywhere, right? Pretty much a guaranteed spot in the grave next to my mom. But I found this program, the Weapon X program, and they take no good assholes like me and say that they’re going to fix them. Well, they took me and turned me into the piece of roadkill I am now! I owe them everything though, because of them I can’t have sex without this mask on and the lights off, and I can’t die!’ 

Peter chokes, “You can’t die?” 

“Nope, I’m half in and half out of the grave at all times! I mean, I’ve died before, but I always come back. Francis, the asshole that made me into this, yeah, he set a building on fire after shoving a bar through my chest. I burnt to death, then I came back and walked out of the building. I grow back limbs, it’s actually pretty cool!” Wade tilts his head, “No, White, I don’t think I’m oversharing! He asked and I told him it was a dramatic backstory-” he turns his attention back to Peter, “You aren’t freaked out by any of this, right? I’ve always had a problem with oversharing, White says it drives people away.” 

The amount of information that Peter receives goes in one ear and right out the other, leaving him gaping. “Uh, that’s a-” 

“It’s a lot, I know. You don’t have to remember any of it, nobody ever does. I’m fine telling the story over and over again anyways.” Wade waves him off then picks up his food again, taking a bite.

The confession leaves Peter feeling guilty, why doesn’t anyone remember something like that? How can someone not remember something like that? “I won’t forget, you just caught me off guard.” 

“Oh,” Wade looks up at him, white eyes seemingly hopeful. 

“How do you get your mask to make expressions like that? I seriously can’t figure it out.” 

“It’s a secret, the writer doesn’t even know. They’re using this as filler.” 

Peter chuckles, “What are you talking about, what author?” 

Wade waves him off again, “Doesn’t matter, eat your food little spider.” 

“I am not little!” 

“You’re little, you’re like 16.” Peter freezes, how could he know, had he done something that was very obviously pointed at his age? “Stop freaking out under there, I can tell by the way you carry yourself that you’re young. No shame and I’m not going to tell anyone. Don’t worry about it.” 

But he knows, why wouldn’t he tell everyone? “Why are you, why do you, what-” 

“Why am I so nice? Why do I offer to keep your secret? What do I want in return? I’m a killer, right? Why would I keep your estimated age a secret if I’m just a big asshole criminal?” Wade sighs, irritation coating his voice now, “I’m not an asshole, I’m really not. I’m just- I’m just a little off. I understand boundaries, and all that, and if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine. But I’m not going to tell anyone, that’s not my job.” 

Wade wraps up his chalupa and grabs a few tacos, “Take whatever you want, I’m gonna leave you alone before I say something else stupid.” 

“Wade, wait-” 

“You don’t have to, Spidey. It’s alright, I’ll be fine. You know how to find me if you want, otherwise, I’ll leave you alone.” Without another word, Wade stands up and grabs the bag with more tacos, and heads out of the park. 

Peter sits for a full minute, seemingly frozen from the encounter he just had. He thought it was going well? At least until Wade seemed to freak about being a criminal and left. Which, alright, Peter could have done something more than gape like a fish and stutter over his words. 

He wants to get to know the guy, Wade’s endearing after all. Peter pulls the business card off the bottom of his shoe and holds it up to his face. 

**Deadpool aka Wade Winston Wilson**

_ Mercenary for Hire, also a good friend  _

_ Call 1-335-3353 _

“Karen put this number in my contacts.” He repeats the number and throws the card away in a nearby trash bin. Grabbing the extra bag of food, he begins to walk out of the park. “And Karen, can you text Deadpool and tell him that I’d like to see him again soon.” 

“Of course, Peter.” 

“Thank you.” 


End file.
